


Correspondence

by yauksiei



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Letters, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Human AU, Letters in General, Love Letters, M/M, Tropes Keep the Fandom Alive, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yauksiei/pseuds/yauksiei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is addicted to drugs after what his now committed ex-girlfriend did to his family. Laura knows he won't do rehab after the previous tries, and he's no longer adept at face to face interaction, so she signs him up for a penpal system online. She picks Stiles as his correspondent. Stiles, who is a senior in college on the other side of the country with over-sharing issues.</p><p>Rating may change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Correspondence

**Author's Note:**

> All of the clichés!
> 
> Wanna dedicate this to Veronica. If not for our penpalship, this never would have happened. <3 you dear!

"Hey Derek, could you come in here for a minute?"

Laura's voice is steady and calm, one that Derek identifies as her Doctor Voice. It's the tone she uses when she's about to tell her patient's parents or loved ones something they're not going to like. It makes him scowl all the way into the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

Laura looks as stoic as she sounded, save for her white knuckle grip on the countertop. Derek's eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he's about to ask what's wrong, when he sees a familiar leather box beside her. The elder takes in the horrific realization on her little brother's face, and her hands get that much whiter on the granite.

Despite the torrent of emotions swirling in her chest, Laura keeps her expression cool and pushes off the bar to cross her arms. Derek doesn't look her in the eye anymore, looking as if he's expecting her to suddenly start shouting and throwing things.

She doesn't, because that is not how Laura Hale handles these situations. All she does is ask one question in a voice that is more collected than she feels.

"How long?"

Derek can feel his sister's eyes boring into his forehead, and it makes him want to bolt. Maybe find another source somewhere, forget this ever happened for a while. But if he does either, she'll simply track him down, so he stays in place and doesn't respond.

Laura takes a deep breath through her nose. "Derek," she murmurs firmly, "Please answer me."

Derek keeps his teeth clenched.

"You know I'll find out either way, so just tell me now and save us both the trouble."

That is enough to get his mouth opening and closing for a few seconds. Laura waits patiently until she gets her answer. Derek knows she'll wait forever if she has to, like water on weathered rock.

So he finally replies in a hoarse mumble. "...few months."

As soon as he says it, she immediately says, "Don't lie to me."

Derek braves one glance at her face. It's tense, like she's bracing herself for the worst. She had the same look at the police station when--well.

"...'bout a year."

Laura stifles the sharp gasp, but the jolt in her entire frame is enough for Derek to wince. It only getst worse because next thing Derek knows she's talking again, but her voice is shaking.

"I always thought something was wrong, ever since you went off on your own after..." she clears her throat, not finishing that sentence. Derek's not the only one who still can't talk about it. "But I never thought that you...or maybe I did, and I just didn't want to see it. I couldn't watch the only family I've got destroying themselves from the inside."

Derek knows an accusation when he hears one, but he also knows that Laura doesn't blame him, but herself. Self-loathing runs in the family; she's just better at hiding it.

"But I can't ignore this anymore," she continues, "I'm going to do something about this, you know I will."

Derek stuffs his sweaty hands into his pockets. It's been a while since he's taken a shot already, which makes this whole thing that much harder to process. He knows that Laura notices because she stands that much straighter, and her eyes get that much stonier.

"I'm calling a clinic tomorrow morning, and I'm getting rid of  _this_ ," his sister says, spitting out the last word like it's poison on her tongue, "You are going to sit on that couch and you will not leave my sight until those rehab doors close behind you. Not even for work. I'll tell your boss for you. Are we clear?"

Derek keeps his mouth shut, but he walks with heavy steps over to the couch. Laura grabs the phone.

 

 

Laura sends him to three different rehab centers, all extremely expensive and closer to a resort than anything. None of them work, giving Laura reports about "uncooperative behavior" and "violent tendencies". If possible, her brother walks out of each one looking worse than he did when he checked in.

After the third time, Laura decides that enough is enough, and stops trying to force Derek into these places, which he's grateful for until her resolve thickens and she's looking for other ways to get him to quit on the internet. If she's anything, it's persistent.

After a week of searching, one of her colleagues approaches her with a possible solution. Carrie has been the best friend Laura needed after the fire, and her judgment has always been trustworthy with anything from patients to clothes shopping. She gives Laura the link to an agency's website, telling her that they specialize in situations like Derek's. It's simply called Correspondence, getting its title from what it entails. Basically, it's a penpal system. It doesn't have to be a drug addict, merely a person who needs something to look forward to, but the people who sign up for it are usually the former. The person picks from a list of profiles (that include available background checks for security), and decide on who they want to write to. This system allows the addict a decent distraction as well as a new companion to help him or her through the process of quitting.

The success rate is more than promising, and Carrie gets a free dinner that weekend out of it.

Laura gets home early to tell her brother. She's explaining loudly from the door, all the way to Derek's bedroom, obviously excited about a solution that could fit to Derek's "unique" personality (as she calls it).

She finds him in the middle of a dose, eyes glazed and high as a kite. The excitement drains from Laura's face.

Pursing her lips, she says shortly, "Just for this, I'm picking who you're writing to."

The door slams behind her. If Derek notices, he doesn't care.

 

 

Laura is careful about choosing the person that her brother is going to be corresponding with, making a list of the qualities she's looking for. She wants someone who will definitely give Derek a lot to think about, someone who will make him regret ever picking up a syringe, but at the same time interesting enough so that he won't just disregard the letters. This search takes about an hour of scrolling, until she stops on a picture of a young man with brown hair and a kind smile, amber eyes bright like Derek's used to be before--

Anyway, she clicks on the name that's next to it,  _Stiles Stilinski_  (already he sounds interesting enough). He lives in California, a couple hours away from where Derek and Laura used to live about a year ago (it seems like a lifetime to both of them). He's attending Berkeley with a full ride, so he's obviously smart. His interests include a range from cooking to video games, and the short 'Biography' box is filled with a nonsensical ramble that makes Laura smile in a way that makes Carrie jump for joy.

Laura regards her list and checks off all of them but one, and that's of course the  _Clear Record_ box. She clicks on the link that sends her to his background check, and finds with great satisfaction that not only is he clean, but his father is a Sheriff. Curious, she looks him up, and goes absolutely still when she sees Sheriff Stilinski's face.

Stilinski. She should have remembered the name, and she blames her forgetfulness on the trauma of losing almost her entire family at the time. He was the man who took her through the legalities step by step with a gentle hand. Stiles must have been at Berkeley, and he certainly wasn't mentioned when Derek and Laura were at the station, clutching each other like the world had ended. Well, Laura figures that in a way, it had. It definitely was enough motive for her baby brother to start using about a week into their settling in New York.

Shaking off the painful memories, Laura goes back to Stiles' profile page and clicks on his email address. If this kid was anything like his father, then Derek was as good as clean.

 

 

_Hello, Stiles!_

_My name is Laura Hale. I met your father on a couple occasions before my brother Derek and I moved to New York. I'm contacting you because I was hoping you could write to Derek. He's addicted to heroin, and rehab isn't helping._

_Send me a reply at this email as soon as you can, and we'll sort out the details. Thank you very much._

_Laura Hale_

_  
_Stiles is gawking seven words in. Because, well, _Hale_. Anyone who lived in Beacon Hills knew that name, even if it's been a year since the fire that killed 11 members of the family, leaving only two survivors. One of whom was talking to the guy who came home after meeting her and her brother and hugging Stiles until he couldn't breathe, professing familial affection like Shakespeare had stabbed him in the chest.

Horrible mental image of his father getting stabbed aside, Stiles shakes his head and hits the 'Reply' button. A blank email sits in front of him for about 5 minutes while he decides on what to say. It's pretty rare that Stiles actually thinks about what he says before he says it, so he's expecting his roommate, Kyle, to suddenly start narrating this moment like he usually does when something astounding happens. Kyle doesn't appear, thankfully, giving Stiles time to contemplate.

He finally goes with something formal but hopefully not awkward.

_Hey, Laura!_

_My father sometimes talked about you. He said you were a good person, and I trust his judgment. I'll give you my address, and you can give me Derek's. Let's do this! :D_

_Stiles_

_  
_Stiles types his address under his name before he reads and re-reads the email. He ultimately hates what he wrote, but he's got two papers to revise, so he forces himself to hit 'Send' anyway. He can only wish that Laura Hale (freaking _Hale_ ) isn't scared off.

 

 

She is fearless, this woman. Laura sends him an address in New York City, and Stiles gets out a piece of paper and a pencil as soon as he finds the time after homework the very night he gets her response. It's a Thursday, and he has the last of his midterms to worry about, resulting in his not finishing it until the next day after a good amount of coffee is running through his system.

Kyle is klonked out on his bed, giving Stiles the rare quiet he needs for completing his letter. He tries not to think about it afterwards when he seals the envelope and writes Derek's address on it. Because awkward letter is awkward. The only thing he's got now is that Correspondence sent him a message informing him of an imminent check from Laura, so Derek is stuck with him.

 

 

Laura gets the letter a few days later, and practically skips to Derek, who's sitting miserably at the table picking at his food. Withdrawal symptoms have hit him hard, and he seems anything but happy when she puts the letter next to him.

"Someone's sent you something," she says, "I'm heading to work, but Greg from next door says he'll keep an eye on you."

"I don't need a babysitter," Derek bites out.

Laura regards him sternly. "Clearly little brother, you do. I'll see you later."

She leaves.

Derek stares at the innocent envelope for a good 10 minutes afterwards. He knows who it's from, and after seeing the profile, he's all the more reluctant to read it. But Laura has been going through his trash, so she'd know if he threw it out, which he's apparently not allowed to do. He can't hide it either, nor can he hide  _from_ it.

With a sigh, Derek snatches the envelope and tears it open. The letter inside reads as follows:

_Dear Derek,_

_Hi! I'm Stiles, the person your sister emailed. You probably already knew that, but I'm telling you anyway, because I'd like to have as direct an introduction as possible. I don't know if you remember my dad, Sheriff Stilinski?_

_  
_Oh, Derek remembers. The memories almost make him rip the letter in half.

_He told me about what happened with your family, and I guess that's pretty solid motive for doing what you've been doing. Not that I'm going to ask! I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything, 'cause that's not what this whole thing is about. But I'll just stop talking about this now--well, I'll stop writing about it. Since this is an introductory letter, I'll talk about myself! How does that sound?_

_  
_It sounds like torture.

_Well, let's see. You know from my profile what my interests are, where I go to college, and all that good stuff. You know that I was born in Beacon Hills because of my dad. I can tell you that I love comic books with a fiery passion, for starters. I have a friend named Erica who shares in this joy with me. While we're on the subject of friends, I have a best friend named Scott, who goes to the local college back home. We Skype sometimes, when he's not falling all over his girlfriend, Allison. Oh Derek, the things I have seen and heard...it's like something out of a bad movie. Like, Twilight bad. Anyway, I'm studying to get into medical school and become a doctor. Not sure what my specialty will be yet, only that I want to help people, which is basically the reason why I signed up for Correspondence. I have a roommate named Kyle, who is mad as a box of cats, but a nice guy and a good friend. He claims he's going to be the next Picasso, but he paints in a completely different style, so I don't know what he's on about with that. He's really good, though, and it's cool 'cause painting isn't the only thing he's awesome at in the arts. He's kind of like a dabbler, like he's an amazing singer. Did this UHMAZING cover of this song called Angel with a Shotgun by this band called The Cab. He's not much of a dancer, but he tries, and he's not too bad at it._

_That paragraph is long so I'm making a new one!_

Wow, this kid can ramble.

_So, anyway, Kyle's also into the art of persuasion. Apparently he thinks I can carry a tune (which is crazy, because I'll let you know that I can't) so he used his mind ninja powers on his choir director, and now I have to be in the tenors. The director and everyone else say that I'm great, but let me tell you, don't believe them. We're actually thinking of coming to New York this year--seniors got to pick--so I might get to see what you look like!_

Derek has to pause in his reading when his stomach decides to get another load of vomit out of him. While he pukes, the letter gets wrinkled in his vice grip. The letters are still legible--Derek will give this 'Stiles' the credit of having nice, smooth scrawl--and he finds himself reading on after he's done dry heaving, slumping against the bathtub and panting.

_That'll be fun, huh? Speaking of seeing you, can I ask you a few questions?  I've told you a lot about me, so I figured I might as well get to know you, right?_

_So. Derek Hale. Do you have a middle name? I always love to find out middle names. ~~Scott's is~~ I'm not at liberty to say Scott's middle name, he made me promise when we were kids, and Stilinski men never break promises. What about pets? Do they allow pets where you live? I know New York is probably not a good place for a pet, at least that's what my aunt told me last Christmas. Are you a cat person or a dog person? If it's not too weird to ask, are you seeing anyone?_

Seeing any...? Derek scoffs. This kid knows nothing about the fire, does he? Then again, Laura doesn't even know about...

Derek feels nauseous again.

_What about your sister? How is she doing? Actually, what about you? Derek, this whole thing is basically about you getting better, right? So are you okay? Well, obviously you're not okay, stupid question. Like I said earlier, I think I understand why you would do what you did, and I'm not doing this to lecture you either. You know what addiction does, and you know it's bad. How about you look up something called positivity? You still have your sister, right? I didn't talk to her over emails very long, but I can tell just from that that she's what my mother would call a "good egg"._

_See? Positivity. It's a thing._

Derek snorts.

_Back to my questions, though! How do you like good ol' NYC? Can you sleep with all the noise outside? Oh, and, here's an important question: what is your favorite color?_

Derek...stares at that question for a few seconds. As if reading his mind, Stiles writes right after it:

_Hey, it's a legitimate question! Aren't you curious about other people's favorite colors? Personally, I like the Mets' colors. That's another thing about me! I'm CRAZY about the Mets! What about you? Do you like sports? Have you ever played one? What's your favorite sport? If you played, what numbers did you have on your jerseys? Who was your favorite teacher in high school? Who's your role model? Do you have one, first of all? Do you watch any TV? I watch a lot of TV. What about video games? Do you have any at your place? Do you have a job? If so, what is it? Do you like it?_

_Okay, okay. I'll stop now, promise. You don't have to answer those, obviously. Totally optional._

_I'm finished with my midterms, so I'll call my dad now. I'll be looking out for your letter!_

_Goodbye for now!_

_Stiles Stilinski_

_  
_Derek sighs, setting the letter aside to vomit once more.

 

 

Stiles gets the return letter 2 weeks after he sent his. He was going to go home for spring break the next day, so he's both glad and incredibly nervous when he sees the envelope in his dorm's mailbox by the door. With quick steps, he makes it back up to his dorm and plops down next to his suitcase on his bed to open it.

"Someone finally write you a love letter?" Kyle asks.

Stiles nods seriously, "Oh yeah. It's that hot chick from downstairs."

"Sweet. Tell me all the dirty details after I'm done cleansing myself."

That's Kyle's way of saying he's going to take a shower. Stiles nods absent mindedly, ignoring Kyle's smirk as he opens the letter.

The first thing Stiles notices is Derek's handwriting is beautiful. And the actual words...

_Stiles:_

_Yes, I remember your dad. Timothy. No, I don't have pets, and no, they're not allowed in the building. Dog person. No, I'm no longer seeing anyone. Laura is doing well. Good thinking, but I'll be fine. Positivity: (n) (pl.) the state or character of being positive: a positivity that accepts the world as it is. New York City is fine. Yes, I can sleep. Black. I like sports just fine. Yes, I have played a few. My favorite is baseball. I was always number 4. I didn't have a favorite teacher. Laura. Yes, I watch TV. Yes, I have video games. I had a job, but my boss fired me because of my addiction. No, I didn't like it. My boss was an asshole._

_Derek_

_  
_Stiles laughs. "Okay, Mr. McSourface," he chortles, "More thinking questions, then."

He writes down Derek's answers on a separate sheet of paper for future reference--hey, one never knows--and takes a pen and notebook from his bag. At least this literal asshole of a quitting addict is interesting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll update when I can! Right now, life's pretty hectic, but I'll do my best!


End file.
